


He Already Knows You Love Him

by dannyphantom



Category: Glee
Genre: Animal Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 07:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannyphantom/pseuds/dannyphantom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's parents can no longer take care of their family dog, so the responsibility falls unto Sam and Sebastian, much to the latter's chagrin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Already Knows You Love Him

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr.

“What the fuck is that thing?”

Those were Sebastian’s first words upon meeting ‘Rocko’, the resident Evans family mutt. He’d seen pictures before on Sam’s Facebook page, but they were of a much younger dog. The scruffiness was cute then, a pepper-colored puppy with vibrance and life, running through a yard after a dorky little boy with sunny blond hair. But these visions of a young Rocko were long behind the old dog. Sam had gotten him as a Christmas gift at the age of 10. Sam was 20 now, and Rocko was really wearing the years.

“Mom says he’s an Airedale mixed with an Irish Wolfhound I think?” Sam responded, completely misinterpreting the question as he ushered the slow-moving pup into their apartment. “I don’t really know. He’s a dog.”

“He looks like the clog I pulled out from the kitchen sink last week,” Sebastian commented, scrunching his nose and eyeing the animal without even attempting to conceal the judgment on his face. He liked dogs, just not… ugly dogs. Why couldn’t Sam have a cute yellow lab or even a fucking chihuahua? But no. Of course Sam Evans would have a pet that looked more elderly wizard than rambunctious puppy. Always with that “love the lost and lonely” bullshit.

“He’s handsome,” Sam argued. Once Rocko got situated in the brand new bed they’d purchased for him at PetSmart, Sam was kneeling beside him, rubbing affectionately at his ears. “The handsomest dog in the whole wide world, right Rocky?” His voice had gone all stupid, but Sebastian really drew the line when he began cooing.

“I’m ordering some Chinese food.”

They hadn’t exactly planned to take the dog in. Their lease allowed them to house animals, but they’d never thought about it much until Sam’s parents called him up, asking him to take Rocko off their hands. Stevie and Stacey were older now, not as connected with the dog as Sam was, and they just weren’t able to take care of him as much as he needed now that he was getting up in the years. His parents knew that Sam, however, would make time no matter how busy he was with other things. Nothing was more important than making sure Rocko was happy and comfortable. And that was awful.

Sebastian didn’t hate Rocko; he just hated how much Sam loved Rocko.

It wasn’t anything heartless on his behalf, of course. But the furniture they’d bought from IKEA (after arguing in the store for what must’ve been five straight hours) was expensive, and letting Rocko get his grimy fur all over it was not something Sebastian had agreed to.

“Why is he on the couch?” Sebastian exclaimed when he came home one day from class, dropping his bag on the ground and letting out an exasperated groan.

“He needs to be comfortable,” Sam insisted defensively. “Leave him alone.”

“He is going to get his nasty mutt smell on everything we own. I know you grew up in a twisted Charles Dickens novel, but I’m accustomed to nice things and I want my nice things to be free of ratty dog fur.”

“Rocko is a person too,” Sam said with adamancy, furrowing his eyebrows and trying his best to match Sebastian’s stern expression. The words only made the brunet more irritated.

“Where am I supposed to sit then?”

“The dog bed is open.”

Sam yelped as Sebastian lunged for him.

They had similar fights at least once a day now that Rocko was living with them. Sam would let the dog on the furniture, or he’d let him eat Sebastian’s leftovers, or he’d insist that it was necessary they leave Rocko’s toys out for him and maybe Sebastian should just be more careful when he was walking around at nighttime. There was one time when Sebastian refused to speak to Sam for an entire week because he paused the amazing sex they were having to take Rocko for a walk (“He was scratching at the door, he needed me!”/”I needed you, you fucking imbecile!”). Even when nothing particularly annoying was happening, Sebastian would invent reasons to argue about Rocko.

“Why is his name Rocko anyway?”

“Like Rocko’s Modern Life.”

“That’s a dumb name.”

“Sebastian Smythe is a dumb name.”

 

“Rocko from the cartoon isn’t even a dog, he’s a wallaby.”

“Yeah, a wallaby is like… a breed of dog, dude.”

“Oh my god.”

When Sam was around, Rocko was stuck to him like furry glue. But when the blond was at work or in class and Sebastian was left home alone, the dog always tried to get on his good side. It was like he was too dense to understand that his presence frustrated Sebastian to no end. Okay… maybe Sebastian encouraged it a little by giving him some extra kibble, and he knew the spots Rocko loved having rubbed the most, and yeah, there was that one time when it was storming and Sam wasn’t home yet so Sebastian let Rocko snuggle up against him on the couch, but those were all flukes, little remnants of Sam’s behavior that rubbed off on him. As far as he was concerned, he wasn’t the dog’s owner. Sam was.

Two years. They had Rocko for two years before his age really began to wear him down. Sam was oblivious to it, or maybe he just wanted to be, but Sebastian noticed it almost immediately. He’d make jokes like, “Looks like Rock ‘n’ Roll’s about two heartbeats away from shuffling off this mortal coil” and “I’m going to stock up on adult diapers for when his bowel control leaves him,” but Sam never found them as funny and would always cover Rocko’s ears like that dog had any idea what Sebastian was saying. But the day they came home and Rocko wasn’t responsive to Sam’s presence was the day Sebastian kind of regretted all the jokes.

“What’s wrong with him? Rocky? Hey, boy, c’mon, you wanna go for a walk? Let’s go for a walk,” Sam said, the pitch of his voice high as he tried his best to get his dog to jump up excitedly like he used to whenever the word “walk” was mentioned. No such luck. Sebastian got out the Milkbones, shaking them in the knowledge that Rocko always freaked the hell out at the sound, but it was an equal failure. He frowned deeply, watching Sam for a few seconds as the blond did everything in his power to figure out what was happening.

“Maybe you should take him to the vet,” he suggested after a while, his tone tentative because he had no idea how Sam was going to react if they received bad news.

He found out soon enough.

Rocko had developed thyroid cancer, the vet said. Prolonging his life would only cause him more suffering and it was recommended that they make the decision to put him down. “I’ll give you some time to discuss the decision,” the woman said before politely leaving the room.

Sam’s eyes were trained to his dog, laying on the silver table and looking around the room with mild interest and confusion. Sam wasn’t saying anything, hadn’t since the vet had come back with the test results and begun explaining the cancer and its effects on Rocko.

“We have to do it,” Sebastian said as softly as he could, a wary expression to his face as he wondered if Sam would try to physically fight him about it (he wouldn’t be surprised, the guy loved his fucking dog).

“I know,” Sam said after a beat, nodding as if to strengthen his own resolve. “I know, I uh… I don’t want him to suffer, like she said. He deserves better than that.” His hand reached out, long fingers curling into the mop of fur near Rocko’s neck.

“We knew this was coming,” Sebastian said in a miserable attempt at being comforting. He almost winced once he realized how harsh his words had come out, and he desperately tried to think of something more effective. He squelched the phrase ‘it’s just a dog’ before it even finished forming in his mind. “Look at him,” were the words he fell upon instead, motioning to the way Rocko responded eagerly to Sam’s petting. “He’s a happy dog.”

“I don’t think I can do this,” Sam confessed in response, his voice low like maybe he was ashamed of it. Sebastian was surprised by the admission; this was coming from a guy who was pretty sure he was going to invent the real life Iron Man suit and who was once convinced for two entire months that he could literally read minds. Sam had always believed he could do the impossible. But there was no superpower that helped you let go.

“You can,” Sebastian told him, placing a comforting hand on his forearm. His grip was firm, doing his best to anchor Sam down. “The last thing he sees can’t be me. He needs your big dumb face.” The blond’s lips twitched like maybe he was going to smile, but he leaned down instead, kissing the top of Rocko’s head.

“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

Sam didn’t speak the entire ride home. Sebastian had offered to drive (Sam’s hands were a little shaky and he was not looking to die himself that day), but the other boy refused, not saying much else about it. It wasn’t like Sebastian could deny him whatever he wanted at that moment, so he spent the entire car ride with his hand grasping the door handle for support.

Sebastian began to suggest dinner when they stepped into the apartment, but one look at Rocko’s mostly-unused dog bed had Sam waving him off, saying he was just going to go to sleep. Sebastian frowned as Sam disappeared into the bedroom. He felt useless. He was more upset about Sam being upset than he even was about the death of the dog. Sure, the change in their apartment would be weird for a couple days, but that was what happened with animals. Sebastian was realistic. In his mind, they could always buy another dog. Right?

Sam, on the other hand, was devastated. And Sebastian knew it. Sam hadn’t just lost a pet, he’d lost a family member, a part of himself that he would never get back. Rocko had loved Sam unconditionally through it all - stripping, homelessness, failing his SATs, that time he flipped his blizzard upside-down at Dairy Queen and spilled it all over the floor. Rocko never thought Sam was stupid or embarrassing; he knew everything and yet at the end of the day, every single day, he still tucked himself in Sam’s lap.

Sebastian understood that. After all, he loved Sam too.

Rarely did Sebastian get sentimental. It wasn’t what he was about, and his romantic moments with Sam were usually about fancy dinners or expensive gifts – things he could pay for out of his pocket. He wasn’t creative the way his boyfriend was. So when the idea struck him, he wasn’t sure if it was going to go well, but he flew with it anyway.

Sebastian spent the better part of two hours perusing Sam’s Facebook and laptop (the blond had it password protected but Sebastian had known for almost their entire relationship that all his boyfriend’s passwords were “neytirisboobs69” [initially given away by the fact that he giggled every time he typed it in]) for pictures of Rocko. There were so many, hundreds of photos spanning the twelve years of his little doggie life. Sebastian chose the best ones, the ones where you could really see how happy the dumb pup was, and printed them all out. When he had them all off the computer, he dug into Sam’s “art-aroni” supplies and created a haphazard collage (once again – not creative) that looked like it was made by a 13 year old girl.

Sebastian had never been in a Walmart before (he was really making some sacrifices here), but it was the only place open that late at night, so it had to do. He got lost once or four times before finally acquiring a picture frame and making his way back to the apartment with his finished product.

“Sam,” he said into the night, nudging his boyfriend’s sleeping figure. Sam groaned a bit and lazily swatted him away. “Sam, wake up.” The blond simply dug himself deeper into the covers, trying to ignore Sebastian. “Come on, Sam, I have something to show you.”

“Tired,” he heard the guy murmur, and he sighed heavily, exaggerating it just a bit in the hopes of lightening the situation.

“You’ll really want to see this.”

Finally Sebastian got Sam out of bed. He lead the boy into the living room, making him cover his eyes. Grumpy from his own sadness, Sam wasn’t responding well to any of it, but Sebastian could tell there was at least a flicker of that Christmas morning curiosity he always had in regards to surprises. It gave him hope.

“Alright,” he said, standing Sam right in front of the couch where he’d displayed his masterpiece. “Open your eyes.” Sam obliged, hands dropping to his sides, and Sebastian let out a loud “Ta-da!” The only immediate reaction he got was a slight widening of Sam’s eyes, which was disappointing, but he would take it. “I call it ‘Ode to Rocko’,” he added as the other male stepped closer to the collage.

Sam looked at Sebastian’s creation for a while, inspecting it with interest and care like he did many of the things in his life. Sebastian waited patiently, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he did his best to gauge the emotional response he was getting. A wave of concern struck him when his boyfriend turned to him, lips sucked into his mouth and tears welling up in those green eyes. He hadn’t even cried at the vet, so Sebastian could only assume that his meager attempt at cheering Sam up had only heightened his depression, and that was… the opposite of what he had wanted.

Sebastian’s arms opened automatically as Sam rushed forward, shoving his body between them and clinging tightly to him. He’d never seen Sam act like this, even at his saddest. This was a whole new level of upset that he wasn’t prepared to deal with, but it had kind of been his fault, so he would try. He walked Sam over to the couch and sat them down next to the picture frame, hugging him in tight.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he said, rubbing the boy’s back soothingly. He patted Sam awkwardly a few times, having little to no experience being this person for someone. “Why don’t you tell me about these pictures, huh? I’ll let you tell me all the stories and I swear I’ll listen to every one.”

Of course that had to be the thing Sam responded positively to. Sebastian instantly regretted offering it, but he figured if he had to sit through someone telling him a bunch of stories about their dead dog, at least it was Sam. Sam was always great at telling tales. He got so cheerful and excited about them that it was hard not to be interested just by the tone of his voice.

As the night went on, Sebastian lost count of the Rocko stories, but he must’ve heard about a hundred by the time Sam had tuckered himself out. It was nearing 5 am and they had shifted to laying on the couch together, Sebastian’s arms wrapped snugly around Sam who was still gazing at the collage of his dog, now leaning against the opposite wall. Sebastian’s own eyes kept training to the picture on the collage of himself, surrounded by a massive spill of dog treats that time a few months ago when Rocko had gotten too overexcited to wait for him to open the box.

It was just a dog, it shouldn’t change anything.

Somehow, though, it was feeling like maybe it had.

“He knew, right?” Sebastian said after a lengthy silence.

“Knew what?” Sam asked sleepily, fingers playing idly with Sebastian’s own.

“That I didn’t hate him,” he replied quickly. He cleared his throat, shifting a bit and trying to disguise the fact that this whole night had had anything to do with his own comfort. It was all about Sam. It was Sam’s dog. “Just… you’re the dog whisperer. I’m not. I was always saying mean things to him but it was only because I assumed he was too dumb to understand anything. I never wanted the stupid mutt to think I actually hated him.”

“Dogs are smart,” Sam answered, and his grin was huge because the guy had no idea how to smile small. “He totally saw right through you.”

“So he knew?”

“Yeah, he knew. He loved you too.”

"Good."


End file.
